


On Your Mark

by MashiarasDream



Category: Supernatural RPF
Genre: AU, Fluff, Jensen is a confused bean but when isn’t he, M/M, Multi, Multiple Soulmates, Polyamory, Skinny-dipping, Soulmate marks, Soulmates, grumpy idiots in love, less crack than the premise suggests
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-27
Updated: 2018-07-27
Packaged: 2019-06-17 06:22:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,183
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15455253
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MashiarasDream/pseuds/MashiarasDream
Summary: Of course Misha wants to go skinny-dipping on the way back from a location shoot. Of course he does. Now if only Jensen didn’t have this embarrassing little secret: In addition to the prominent soulmate mark on his wrist proclaiming Danneel to be his soulmate, he also has this pesky mark on his butt that says Dmitri.





	On Your Mark

**Author's Note:**

> Remember how I said that I have no interest in writing Cockles AU? Yeah, apparently I lied.  
> Thank you to [Dean](https://archiveofourown.org/users/DeanRiordain/pseuds/DeanRiordain) for betaing!

“Misha no!“ It feels like the sentence he says the most often in his life these days.

As usual, it gets answered only by Misha’s patented smirk and an eyebrow raised in challenge.

Just as usual, Jensen rolls his eyes and gives in. “Alright. Misha yes.”

Misha’s smirk gets a little wider still. “Good boy.”

“Shut up, asshole, or I’m going back to the car.”

“You wouldn’t.” Apparently taking that as completely self-evident, Misha pulls his shirt over his head. “What are you waiting for?”

“You could have warned me that we were going to need swimwear!”

“I didn’t _know_! Actually, I could have known,” Misha stares thoughtfully into the distance. “It was almost certain that we would make good time since Jared wasn’t in the scene.” He shrugs laconically and throws his shirt to the side. “Now don’t be such a priss. We even have spare clothes in the trunk! Just keep your underwear on if you’re scared some deer hunter is going to ogle you.”

It’s decidedly not the deer hunters that Jensen is uncomfortable about but that isn’t even the main issue. He blushes. “What underwear?” he mumbles embarrassedly.

Misha’s head snaps up. “You’re still wearing Dean’s jeans,” he points out.

“And?”

“You’re going commando in _Dean’s_ jeans?”

Jensen can feel his face heating up even further. “Yeah?” he answers a little insecurely. It’s not like anyone else is going to wear Dean’s jeans anytime soon. And Dean himself would totally approve of going commando, Jensen is sure.

Misha breaks into laughter. “That is so _you_ , Ackles. All proper on the surface but there’s so much to discover when you dig a little deeper.”

He gives Jensen another smirk before he unceremoniously rids himself of Castiel’s pants and his shoes and socks, leaving on only his bright orange briefs. Then, with a last grin in Jensen’s direction, he starts running towards the lake at full tilt. The water splashes in all directions as Misha yells a wordless cry at the sudden cold.

Jensen shakes his head though he can’t quite keep his fond smile back. Misha running into an ice-cold lake at full speed and yelling his glee about it into the world is as good a metaphor for Misha’s overall approach to life as Jensen’s hesitation and doubt are for his own.

He sighs and finally draws his shirt over his head.

It’s not that they haven’t seen each other in various stages of undress around set already. Not completely naked maybe, Supernatural isn’t really the kind of show where your only costume is makeup and a strategically placed sock. They don’t air on HBO after all. But it’s not like actors are particularly shy in general.

It’s only – for all his enjoyment of wearing his pants commando, Jensen likes to keep his butt covered. And it isn’t even for the obvious reason. Or well, rather, the reason becomes obvious only when he’s in the nude.

He sighs again. How weird is it to only keep his front towards his friend? To basically lead with his dick?

He shakes his head at himself.

It’s just skinny-dipping. They’ll be in the water and Misha is going to wax poetic about the glory of nature or something and will not pay attention. Jensen only has to be fast going in and out of the lake.

Yeah, that’s a good plan. He can do this. With a last deep breath, he opens the buttons on his jeans and lets them drop.

Immediately, the wind feels chilly even though he was sweating in the car not a quarter of an hour ago.

“Come on, Jackles! It’s glorious!”

“Yeah, yeah,” Jensen calls back. “Just try not to freeze into a popsicle until I’m there.”

The answer of course is wild cackling from the lake. Great.

Running without clothes on is never dignified so he refrains, but he at least speed-walks down to the lake. Where he stops because “Holy fuck, this _is_ freezing!”

“There’s glacier meltwater running into this lake, what did you expect?” Misha swims a little closer, getting firm ground under himself and starting to walk back towards Jensen.

And yeah, that doesn’t work. With a shudder, Jensen gets over himself and quickly wades in until his thighs are mostly submerged before he deliberately drops to dunk himself.

“Holy shit! Holy _shit_!”

He comes back up spluttering.

“Keep moving!” Misha advices. “If you keep swimming, it’ll get warmer.”

Jensen highly doubts that. In fact, he thinks it’s much more likely that all his joints will lock up because they freeze in place, and then Misha has to save him or he’ll drown.

“Fuck, how are you doing this, man?” Jensen complains. “And _why_ are we doing this?”

Misha chuckles again and this time Jensen doesn’t evade when he swims closer. He’s safely submerged after all. Well, ‘safely’ unless you count the risk of hypothermia or drowning.

“Practice,” Misha answers matter-of-factly. “Giving my body over to extreme sensations makes me feel alive.”

“Dude, man, you need to find better ways to feel alive,” Jensen shakes his head.

“Do I now?” Misha grins lazily and raises an eyebrow while effortlessly paddling in the water. 

At least Jensen’s too cold for the heat to creep back up into his face. He’s got no idea how Misha does this. How he makes him flustered so easily. The only other person who can do this is Danneel. And well, there’s a reason for that. Unconsciously, Jensen grasps at his wrist, where elegant round letters proclaim the name _Danneel_ written for the world to see. 

But grasping his wrist is a bad idea of course, because he’s immediately off-kilter.

“Whoa there, cowboy.” It takes Misha no more than two strong strokes and he’s there to steady Jensen. “Swimming is not your forte, huh?”

“I’m from Texas, man. We have nice temperate pools, not freezing fucking lakes.”

“Fucking in freezing lakes is in fact not advisable,” Misha deadpans. “Hydraulics and stuff.”

Jensen groans, though the bad joke also makes him that much more aware of the warmth where Misha’s hand is still on his shoulder. It sears into him, its presence so much more solid than it should be. He keeps himself from reaching out to Misha in return. “Are you raising me from the freezing water or something?”

It has a little more bite than he intends and Misha guiltily pulls his hand back. “Just trying to keep you above water, Jackles. Pretty sure they’d notice if I didn’t deliver you back safe and sound for your early call tomorrow.”

It’s supposed to sound light and teasing but it’s really neither.

“Huh,” Jensen says, only slightly out of breath from treading water. “You keeping tabs on my call times now?”

It’s quite possible that that is another blush spreading over Misha’s face. “Come on, let’s get you out of the water before the Canadian summer kills you.”

Jensen huffs some more but he thankfully follows Misha towards the shore. Skinny-dipping is that much more fun when the water temperature isn’t actively trying to make your appendages fall off.

A minute later, Misha is wading out of the water, reminding Jensen that the only person who actually went skinny-dipping here is him. Misha is still wearing his boxer-briefs. They cling to him, though, leaving only very little to the imagination. So, either Misha is actually not affected by the cold water or… Suddenly Jensen feels warm again.

“You coming, Jackles?”

“Umm.” For a moment there, he has trouble finding his voice. Then he decides that attack is the best defense. The Jared-way of playing everything as a crude joke is something he’s well versed in after all. “Not that you’re not appealing half-naked but sorry to tell you, I’m not that young anymore. I need a little more stimulation and a little less icy water to come.”

Misha raises his eyebrows and stops where he is, just out of the water, to wait for Jensen. “You find me appealing, huh?”

And that was not the part of this that Misha was supposed to zoom in on.

Jensen is pretty sure that it shows on his face, too, because Misha grins at him. “I’m appropriately flattered,” he says with a theatrical little bow.

Jensen rolls his eyes and tries to shake his sudden discomfort. “Yeah, don’t let it get to your head,” he mutters sullenly. “’s not like you and I are a thing or something.”

“A thing?” Misha asks. The smirk has been wiped off his face.

“Yeah, well,” Jensen shrugs uncomfortably. “You know what I mean.”

“No, Jensen, I actually do _not_ know what you mean. You’ll have to explain.”

It sounds exasperated and a little patronizing and Jensen shrinks under it like he always does. He’s got plenty of experience with other guys patronizing him – hello daddy issues – but only very few people get under his skin the way Misha does.

But Misha is not his dad. His dad would take Jensen’s hunched shoulders as a sign of victory and drop the topic with a huff and a ‘told you so’. Misha comes the few steps back into the water to grab Jensen’s arm.

“No, Jen, I mean it. This has been going on for _months_. It’s about time that we talk about it.”

He makes no effort to hold Jensen in place, though, when he shakes Misha’s hand off. Because suddenly, Jensen is angry.

“ _She_ is my soulmate, man.” He holds his wrist under Misha’s nose so that his meaning can’t be mistaken. “I have no idea what you’re playing at but that’s never going to change. I don’t _want_ it to change, either.”

For a heartbeat, Misha looks taken aback. Like this is not the direction he thought this conversation would take. But then, what did he expect? What else even is there to talk about if not _this_ thing between them?

“I wouldn’t want it to change, either.” Misha still looks bewildered. “Why would you think that? You know that I have the highest respect for Danneel.”

“Yeah, well, then what? You want me just for my body? Want me to cheat on her?”

“Jensen…”

“That’s disgusting, man.” Also, it hurts. There have been too many people wanting to take advantage of him for his looks but he’s never thought Misha would be one of them. It fuels his anger, so he stomps off and out of the water.  

“Jensen, wait!”

He doesn’t, though, he keeps moving. Only, there’s the sound of someone running and then a hand on his arm physically stops him. He tries to yank free but Misha’s not as small as Castiel’s oversized clothes make him seem. He doesn’t budge. He doesn’t turn Jensen around to face him, either. Instead, he stares.

“Oh shit.” It’s a small sound, the exclamation barely louder than the wind in the trees.

But Jensen knows what it means anyway. Misha has seen the mark. Has read it. Angrily, he yanks against the hand holding him. “Let go of me, asshole.”

This time, Misha doesn’t resist.

Jensen tries to keep stomping away but it doesn’t have the same effect anymore. He’s too aware of Misha staring at his butt. So he reverts back to speed-walking to get to his jeans. He angrily yanks them up over his still wet thighs.

Misha follows him much slower, his expression thoughtful. Calculating even, if you’re less kind.

But Jensen’s whole reaction has already given him away. There is no way he can pass this off as a drunken tattoo, a mistake made in his youth.

“If you say anything about this to anyone, Misha, I swear…” He threatens.

Immediately, Misha holds up his hands in surrender. “I won’t. I’d like to show you something, though. If you’re agreeable to that.”

And really, there’s nothing much that can make this day worse. “Yeah, fine, whatever,” he agrees.

He’s got no idea what he expects but it isn’t Misha turning around and walking towards their rental to rummage in his messenger bag while still dripping wet. When he comes back up he’s holding a plastic card. He holds it out to Jensen.

“What is this?” Jensen asks suspiciously.

“Don’t be a pain, Jen. Just read it.”

But there is no actual fight in Misha’s voice. Instead there is – is that a hint of nerves? Jensen frowns but he closes the last few steps towards Misha and takes the card from him. Immediately, Misha crosses his arms in front of his chest. Jensen’s frown deepens. It’s unlike Misha to close himself off like this.

“What am I looking for?” Jensen strives to make his voice sound business-like, a careful neutral that somehow only serves to heighten the surreality of the moment.

“Just read it, you’ll see.”

So Jensen finally looks down at the card. It’s Misha’s driver’s license. Only – it’s not _Misha’s_ driver’s license. “The fuck?”

Immediately, Misha snatches the card back and throws it back into his bag. “I thought you knew, Jen. It never even occurred to me that you might…”

“… not know that your real fucking name is _Dmitri Tippens Krushnic_?” Jensen exclaims flabbergasted.

“Guilty as charged,” Misha replies with a grimace. “Look, Jen…”

But Jensen doesn’t let him finish. He shakes his head determinedly. “Show me.”

“Jen…”

“ _Show me._ ”

For a moment, he thinks Misha will refuse. But then he nods and pushes himself away from where he’d leaned against the car. He turns to the side and draws down his briefs, exposing his hipbone for Jensen.

And there it is, clear as day.

_Darius Victoria Jensen_

Jensen gapes.

“I’m sorry, Jen. I would have said but -,” Misha shakes his head and bites his lip so hard that for a second Jensen thinks Misha’s teeth are going to come away bloody. “I got a lot of mixed messages from you. Not only on – us, but also on this kind of stuff in general.” He makes a vague gesture but gives up and lets his arms sink. “I understand that you frown on this. I’d also understand if you…” He shrugs helplessly. “It doesn’t have to mean anything if we don’t want it to mean anything.”

“I’ve got your name tattooed on my butt,” Jensen says dumbly.

“Yeah, so I’ve noticed,” Misha nods. “Hope no one thinks you’re sleeping with a Russian spy.”

Against his will, that makes Jensen snort. “You’re something else, man.”

Misha watches him not unlike a cat watches you when they’re not quite sure about your next move. “So does this mean we’re – okay?” Misha asks. “At least for now?”

“I -,” Jensen shakes his head, still not believing what is right in front of his eyes. “I have no idea. I guess you’ve had some time to get used to this.”

“Yeah,” Misha nods. “I did. I mean, I couldn’t be sure it was you. There’s more than one Jensen in the world. But the way we clicked from the first moment? Yeah, I – strongly suspected.”

“Yeah, man, not just about me. About – everything.” Jensen gestures towards the script on Misha’s hip, where there are still three names written.

“Oh, that. Yes, I’ve had some time to figure _that_ out. Roughly since I was 16 or so.”

Because Misha met both Darius and Vicki while he was still in school. Shit. “So Darius and you…?” Jensen asks carefully.

“You got a problem with us?” Misha asks back, his voice shifting into the dangerous kind of calm.

“No, just… You never told me.”

“See above. I wasn’t entirely sure that you’re not a judgmental prick.”

“Ouch.” Though unfortunately, Jensen can kind of see where Misha is coming from on this. Jensen cannot claim the same liberal upbringing that Misha has had, and while he’s done his fair share of experimenting in his early adulthood, the soulmate bond has always been something untouchable for him. Only, he’s never expected… “So it’s actually true. That people can have more than one soulmate at the same time. It’s not just, you know, two soulmates because one of them dies early or something.”

Misha gives him a somewhat horrified look. “Is that what you’ve been thinking? That Danny is going to die early?”

Jensen shrugs uncomfortably. “Kinda?” he hedges. “I mean I didn’t _like_ the thought if that’s what you’re implying.”

“I wasn’t implying that,” Misha shakes his head vigorously. “Just, that’s a horrible thought. I don’t want to spend a single day of my life without Darius and Vick – or you, for that matter.”

And that is just a little too much. “Umm, but you’re not living with Darius. Or – me.” Jensen points out.

“So in your opinion you have to live with someone for them to be important to you?” Misha raises his eyebrows in challenge. “I mean you _are_ up here in Vancouver with me instead of down in Texas with Danny.”

“That’s not the same,” Jensen defends lamely. “That’s work.”

He doesn’t even need Misha’s eyebrows rising even higher to know that going skinny-dipping with Misha does not exactly classify as _work_.

“Can I – can I see it again?” he asks instead of digging himself deeper.

Misha sighs but he indulges him, drawing down his briefs again where they had ridden back up on his hips.

Without his conscious permission, Jensen’s hand snakes out as if to touch his name where it’s clearly stenciled onto Misha’s skin. He snatches his hand back as soon as he notices. “Your underwear’s an eyesore,” he grumbles. “Don’t know why you insist on wearing the most garish orange you can find.”

“I would take them off but I have a feeling you’re not ready for that.” It’s said almost kindly, too serious to be a joke, but with enough of a flourish that it’s up to Jensen whether he wants to understand it that way or not.

And really, it is his first instinct to deflect. He’s made it through a childhood in a conservative household and an acting career where a varying number of people could make or break you on any given day by being able to not only read the room but also adjust to it in an instance. By deflecting away from himself and mirroring whoever it is who is with him.

Danneel called him on that more or less immediately. Misha, surprisingly, tends to be less direct in his approach but Jensen doesn’t doubt that he sees through it the same way Danny does.

So instead of falling into his go-to-routine, Jensen sighs and moves so that he can lean on the car next to Misha, the both of them looking out over the lake this way. It’s easier when there aren’t any eyes on him. Makes him feel less of a need to perform.

“So what’s the plan, Mish? Where do we go from here?” He asks it into the clear summer air in front of them.

“I don’t know,” Misha admits.

It’s rare enough for Misha to admit that his knowledge has bounds but Jensen is calling bullshit on this one. “You have to have a plan. You brought me out here for this exact purpose, after all. This exact outcome is why we went skinny-dipping.” He doesn’t even word it as a question. Doesn’t need to.

“Let’s just say, even someone who likes extreme sensations can only bear so much hot and cold before they break.” Misha runs an exhausted hand through his hair. “For what it’s worth, I apologize. It was kind of assholish of me to plan this, seeing how I came in with more information than you.”

“Yeah,” Jensen agrees. “Gotta admit, though, that I can see how someone had to force the issue eventually. And it wasn’t gonna be me.”

“You understand that it doesn’t mean that I want to force you into anything, though, right, Jen?”

It is an actual question and a nervous one at that, so Jensen leans a little closer. Just enough that his shoulder brushes Misha’s. “Yeah, Mish, I know,” he nods. Then, because he’s just noticed that, “I’m gonna have to talk to Danny.”

“Does she know?” Misha asks.

“What? That it’s more than a tramp stamp?” Jensen snorts. “Course she knows. She’s got a good bullshit detector.”

“She needs it. Seeing how she’s your soulmate and all.” But it’s said without malice and Misha nudges his shoulder with his own, so Jensen appreciates it for the attempt at levity that it is.

“Yeah, man, don’t be too smug. I think not even you would get away with anything with her.”

“Oh, she and Vicki will get along splendidly then,” Misha chuckles.

“You think?” Jensen asks and knows his worry is prominent in his voice. He knows his wife is much less conventional than he himself is but… “I dunno, man.”

“Does she also believe that she’s going to die young? Or is that theory all yours?”

“Umm. It’s not really something we talk about?” Though come to think of it, Danny’s reaction to his second soulmate mark had been a lot more relaxed than ‘ _certainty of early death’_ would warrant.  

“Well, then look at it this way: Either she was aware that this could happen all along, or she’ll be happy to hear that she’s not doomed to die young. Either way, this is going to go over better than you believe right now.”

Jensen huffs at that but Misha talks right over him.

“Especially since you’re going to tell her that absolutely nothing has happened between us and that any and every decision about what will happen or not happen in the future will be made by everyone involved.”

“That’s how it works?” Jensen asks.

“That’s how it works,” Misha confirms. “Or at least, how it works for us.”

 “So you’re not the only one? Vicki and Darius…?”

“Both have more than one soulmate, yes. If that’s what you’re asking. Any other details are not my story to tell, though. You’ll have to ask them directly.”

Jensen nods because okay, yeah, he gets that. It’s a pretty big outing after all. “Thanks for trusting me. With, you know.” He gestures vaguely towards Misha’s hipbone.

Misha sighs. “Jensen, I love you but sometimes…” He rubs his eyes and takes a deep breath. “They have seen me naked, Jen. They know what my marks say. They also know who I work with. It shouldn’t come as a surprise that I already have their permission. For, you know, bringing you into the fold if that’s what you want, but as a first step for talking to you about this.” 

“Bring me into the fold, huh?” Jensen says and rubs over the sudden goosebumps on his arms. “Your own personal harem?”

Misha groans in response. “Just so you know, I’m fighting the urge to turn around and bang my head against the car right now. Seriously, Jen? _That’s_ how you see this?”

Jensen can feel the warmth rising into his face, so he mumbles, “Yeah, well, I’ve never had to share before,” through gritted teeth.

Only, Misha doesn’t answer anything to it. So after another moment, Jensen looks up. And looks right into wide blue eyes.

“That doesn’t sound like _let’s stay friends_.” Misha sounds shocked at the observation.

And now it’s Jensen who has the urge to facepalm. “Months, Misha. Months.” Months of progressively unsubtle flirting. Of using every opportunity to touch. Of feeling drawn to Misha a little more with every passing day. Of having to hold himself back. “You know how hard it’s been to hold back? To not use every opportunity to touch you the way I wanted? To keep us on somewhat safe ground?”

Jensen would swear he can see the lightbulb go on in Misha’s head.

“I see,” Misha says thoughtfully. “That’s why you try to keep us in public.”

Jensen nods. “Can only go so far when there’s a dozen people with cellphones buzzing around. So much safer than going fucking skinny-dipping in the middle of nowhere.”

That makes Misha snort. “So unfair. We’ve been nothing if not well-behaved. I, like, barely even ogled you at all!”

“Apart from staring at my butt,” Jensen points out.

“You have _my name_ on your butt!” Misha retaliates immediately.

And Jensen’s gotta give him that point, even though it still boggles his mind. “Guess I do. Huh. Dmitri, bring it out!”

That makes Misha groan again. “I regret my life choices.”

“No, you don’t,” Jensen shakes his head.

“No, I don’t,” Misha admits. He nudges Jensen before his face turns serious again. “But I would like to know where we stand. Or at least where we’ll go from here.”

“Mish,” Jensen bites his lip. “This is all new to me.”

“I know. And I promise you that I’ll respect your wishes. But I can’t…” Misha sighs. “I won’t lie, I want this with you. I want to be your soulmate with all that entails and I’m willing to support you every step of the way. And if you – if you decide you can’t do this, I’ll not hold it against you. But, Jen. I’m so sorry but I can’t promise you that I can be just friends with you. Not when we both know that we could be so much more.”

And that – that’s fair, Jensen guesses, even though the thought of losing Misha from his life makes his guts constrict into a painful ball. To counteract it, he smuggles his hand into Misha’s. “I don’t want to lose you, Mish. And I – well, I already told you how hard it’s been to behave when you’re around.”

But Misha shakes his head, even though he allows Jensen’s grip on his hand. “That’s not – that’s not what this is about. I mean, don’t get me wrong, you’re a fairly attractive human being. But what I want of you –“

“- Is my soul. Or the part of it that belongs to you. I got it, Mish.”

“Oh. Okay. Thank God.”

Jensen shakes his head fondly and squeezes Misha’s hand. “I’m stupid but I’m not _that_ stupid.”

“Well, you _do_ hang around with Jared a lot.”                                                                      

“Shut up, asshole.” They both chuckle for a moment before Jensen asks, “Do you think he knows?”

“About us?”

“Yeah.”

“Jen, there’s nothing to know yet.”

Jensen raises an eyebrow at Misha. “You sure?”

That actually makes Misha blush a little, who would have thought. “Does he know about, uhh, your butt?”

Jensen snorts at the wording but he nods. “Yeah. He and I lived together for a while in the beginning of the show. And Jared does not know the meaning of closed doors.”

“I can see how that might be the case.” Misha keeps his voice carefully neutral but Jensen can hear the laughter bubbling underneath it.

Jensen rolls his eyes. “Do you have a point asking about this, too?”

Misha shrugs but he also smiles. “Just that, you know, your early death theory has been thoroughly disproven. So, it’ll probably not come as a complete shock to him. Assuming you’d want to tell him.”

“Only after we have a public mitigation strategy,” Jensen grimaces. “I love him to death, but that man-child can’t keep a secret for more than five seconds. And I think, we’d have to – you know, keep it secret?” he says somewhat anxiously.

But Misha doesn’t seem too put out by it. “Darius and I aren’t really public, either,” he answers with a shrug. “It works for us because we’re honest with everyone who is dear to us. So I’d be okay with a similar strategy. I don’t need the world to know that you’re mine. But I would want to be able to - to _be_ with you in a private setting. And I’m not okay with lying to anyone we love.”

Jensen exhales a long breath. “Yeah, yeah, that sounds good.” Though he hopes very much that it doesn’t mean Misha wants to get to know his parents anytime soon. Danneel, that’s one thing. His parents, quite another.

“Alright, Jackles. Enough of this then. You need to think it over and you’re still clammy and I’m getting cold. Come on, let’s get into something dry. And I think we need to get going.” Misha squeezes his hand again and then let’s go.

Misha is right, of course. The sun is still sinking towards the horizon but in a Canadian summer that means it’s kind of late.

“I’m gonna talk to her. First thing when I get home. Okay?” Because Jensen doesn’t really think he can do this over the phone. “Can you wait that long?”

Misha stops and turns back to him to search his face. Like he’s trying to assess the truth of the statement. Jensen lets him, too. He means it.

“Yes, Jen. I’ll always wait for you as long as there’s a chance.”

Abruptly, the intensity of Misha’s gaze becomes too much. The emotion too real. It’s not necessarily a new feeling but unlike every other time this has happened, today, Jensen doesn’t evade it. Today, he bares the too much. Let’s it fill him. Let’s himself feel Misha. He takes his hand again, feeling grounded by the physical connection even though what is happening between them is more than a touch to the skin.

It’s a touch to the soul.

For the first time, Jensen lets himself feel it. Lets the warmth and the happiness that comes with it into his heart. He takes Misha’s hand and puts it just there, on his still naked chest over his heart. “Do you feel it?” he asks and isn’t sure whether he means his heartbeat or the emotion growing between them.

“Yes,” Misha nods. “I feel it.” And somehow, Jensen’s completely sure that Misha understood and answered both questions.

“Good,” Jensen answers, too terse for the vulnerability of the moment, but he’s always been better at showing love than at putting it in words. “I would kiss you but…”

“I understand,” Misha answers softly. He frees his hand to cup Jensen’s cheek instead. He lets a thumb glide over the corner of Jensen’s mouth, his eyes following the movement before looking back up at Jensen’s eyes again. “We have all the time in the world. We can afford to do this right.”

“I want that,” Jensen confirms because somewhere over the course of the past hour this certainty has formed.

“Good,” Misha echoes Jensen’s own words. He tries to say them with the same terse inflection, too, but there’s a bright spark in his eyes that Jensen is sure hadn’t been there in the afternoon.

It makes butterflies erupt in Jensen’s stomach to think that he put it there. That he is the cause for Misha’s happiness. So he leans forward, closes the space between them, and just for a heartbeat lets his lips touch Misha’s cheek. It’s a promise more than anything. We’ll do this right. We’ll do this.

Then he straightens away, straightens his posture and puts on his best grin before slapping Misha in the back. “Come on, old man, we gotta get going. Can’t get started on this unless we take the first step.”

**Author's Note:**

> You know me, I live of feedback and will love you for it! <3


End file.
